


The Inferiority of the Rest of the World

by hooksandheroics



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Smut, criminals au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4255674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooksandheroics/pseuds/hooksandheroics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wakes up on the first Friday of November to a presence in his jail cell, surprised but not baffled. Of course, if there's anyone who can break into a high-security prison ground, it's Clarke Griffin. And god, how he missed her.</p>
<p>(Or that AU where Bellamy and Clarke are intelligently superior criminals with the world at their command. This is the story of the first and last prison cell they break out of.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inferiority of the Rest of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [thatweirdparamedicstudent](http://thatweirdparamedicstudent.tumblr.com) for her opinions on this. You're the best. ;)

The thing about him is that he’s precise.

He wakes up at precisely five in the morning. His vision is a perfect 20/20. His hearing is acute, his nose is attuned, and his memory is almost perfect. His tongue is silver, his words are charming, and his face is an asset. With an arsenal like that, there’s no life for him but the con life.

So, waking up at five in the morning on the first Friday of November feeling a heavy presence in the cell with him – let’s just say he’s surprised, but not baffled. After all, if there’s someone who can break through layers and layers of defense, and right into a high-security prison ground, it’s Clarke Griffin.

The police people thought it would be nice to place him in solitary because he can be a resourceful son of a bitch, even without his partner. He, after all, once charmed a senator to transfer a huge sum of money into an untraceable offshore bank account; they have substantial reason. People around him are his pawns, so it’s probably a great decision to put him in a place without anyone there to fall for his silver tongue. Can’t say he minds, to be completely honest. Being alone is nice for the brain. It’s just that with Clarke… well, with Clarke, there’s nothing in this world that he couldn’t do.

His eyes remain closed, but his lips quirk up in a smirk. “Took you long enough,” he says.

There’s a chuckle that bounces off the gray walls of his cell, and goddammit, he missed her so much that even just the sound of her laugh turns him on.

“Whatever happened to ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’?” she asks, and he opens his eyes to find her perched at the end of his mattress. It’s not a long bed, his calves hang off the edge if he does not curl in on himself, so there’s not much distance between them.

She looks just the same, maybe a little thinner than before because prison food is no gourmet after all. But her halo of golden hair still makes her look like the angel that she’s not. Her eyes are still the fiery pits of hell, her voice still the snake in the Garden of Eden. He loves her this way.

She smiles and there’s no other word to describe it but feral. _Animalistic, perhaps._

“Why don’t you just admit that this one’s harder to break into?” he says, sitting up. She leans forward, her lips still playing that devastatingly coy smile, her finger lifting to trace his jaw – sends sparks down his spine and straight to his groin and – god fucking dammit, she’s perfect.

“Maybe I just want you to wait longer,” she whispers, and his resolve breaks.

He crushes their lips together, hungry and rough and fucking perfect. She bites his lower lip in retaliation, dragging and playing with it with her teeth until he couldn’t contain the low groan building up in his chest. He buries his hand in her hair and tugs, knowing full well the whimper that’s going to fly out of her mouth when he does. She fucking loves it when he does that – and it’s just been so long since he’s had his mouth on her that he’s hard just thinking about fucking her in his jail cell.

“Bellamy,” she says, pleads in a coarse whisper. “We can’t – not here, remember?”

It takes a great deal of effort, but he pulls his lips away from her neck and meets her gaze, a smirk already on her lips. He smiles. “Of course – lead the way, princess.”

The apartment is nice, smaller than his cell, which is saying something about his cell. It looks like it had life before two delinquents found it as a hideout. But none of that, because she’s leading him by the hand towards the tiny single bed next to the wall, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, and she’s never looked so beautiful in a gray jumpsuit. Maybe because it’s the first time he’s seen her in one. She looks beautiful in anything she wears, to be perfectly honest, but she’s ethereal without any stitch of clothing on her. And he aims to get her to that state as soon as possible.

She releases his hand and sits on the bed, holds his gaze and slides the front zipper down – revealing just how much she’s _not_ wearing underneath it. His breath hitches at the sight of her breasts. She’s teased him about how much he worships her breasts, but he sees no problem with it. He’s simply admiring God’s perfect creations, he cannot help it.

His fingers skim down the valley of her chest, dragging the zipper down himself. He feels her shiver at his touch, feels her breath quicken until he reaches her stomach, until the zipper meets its end. She slips the jumpsuit down her shoulders, and buries her hands in his hair, guiding his mouth where she’s already peaked and ready.

He wastes no time in lavishing her nipples with his tongue and teeth, sucking until she’s writhing and moaning his name, begging for _more more more._

He unlatches his mouth from her breasts and lifts his shirt over his head, smirking at her sharp intake of breath. “Missed me, princess?”

“Shut up and get naked, you owe me,” she says, and he couldn’t do anything but obey.

In a matter of seconds, they’re both naked on the bed, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. He holds her thighs apart and lowers himself, presses wet kisses down her stomach, making her muscles quiver with anticipation, and goddamn, she looks magnificent like this, spread open for him.

He licks a stripe from her entrance to her clit, the tip of his tongue circling her already sensitive nub, eliciting a sharp moan. She grasps at his hair, pulling almost painfully, but it just makes his cock harder than it already is. He kisses the inside of her thigh, and then her cunt, unrelenting and fast and hard. She’s breathing fast, getting more vocal, shaking – he knows she’s close, can feel it in the way her fingers tighten in his hair, and it’s been so long since the last time that it takes him almost no time to get her to the edge – she’s almost there and then –

“Son of a bitch,” she mutters when he pulls away just right before her orgasm, her chest still heaving from exertion. She opens her eyes to glare at him, so he gives her his best smile. “That’s the thanks I get for breaking your ass out of prison?”

He shakes his head. “No, _this_ is.”

He kisses her on the mouth, letting his tongue dip inside, to curl around hers and let her taste her arousal. She moans into his mouth, starts climbing towards that high again like he knows she would. He drags a hand down to himself and slips on a condom, giving a few jerks, and then lines himself to her entrance, reveling in the gasp of surprise when he pushes just the slightest bit into her.

“Goddammit, Blake, stop teasing – oh!”

He pushes to the hilt, her eyes widening in surprise and arousal. He wants to be smug about it, but he’s honestly too turned on to even form words at the moment, her heat around him proving to be too much and not enough all at once. He gives her a few seconds to adjust to him, and then moves, slow and deep.

He hits a spot that makes her moan into his shoulder and scrape her nails down his back. He’s thrumming with excitement, his whole body shaking with need, just like she is, and it’s amazing how much she can affect him. She has power over him, just like he has power over her and it strikes a balance so delicate that no other person in this world could ever recreate. And he can take over the world with her, create empires, destroy corporations, or just lie in bed with her and everything’s still alright. (Still, he prefers nice full meals and a shower.)

He smirks at her and pulls out, and then flips her to her stomach with her hips on the air. He pushes into her cunt without preamble, her stuttered groan fueling his desire even further. He takes her from behind, fast and rough and hard enough that her loud noises could only be muffled by the pillow under her head. He couldn’t help his groans, too, his growls when she clenches around him, almost to the precipice, just like he is.

It wouldn’t take long for him to reach the peak so he quickens his pace and snakes a hand around her waist to rub her clit. She shivers hard, and then she’s crying out, clenching around him. She slumps down on the bed, sated and boneless. It takes him a few more thrust and then he’s falling apart, his groans loud and deep.

He drapes himself on her back, quite possibly crushing her with his weight but it was good sex – he allows himself. He moves them together so that her back is pressed against his front, a content sigh escaping her lips as she fits into the mold of his body.

“Was that payment enough?” he whispers to her ear. She flinches and giggles – of course. She’s ticklish there and he loves it.

She hums as an answer, like she’s considering it, and oh, alright. “I don’t know,” she says, and he just knows she’s frowning like she’s taking a test or something. “I’m not really _satisfied_ by it –

He flips her over and pins her with his weight, and she laughs. “Oh, really? That’s what you’re going for?”

She nods and smiles, bright and wide and sunshine. Fuck, she’s wonderful. “Yeah, might need to do it again, just for substantiation –

He kisses her again, cuts her off in the middle of her playful teasing, never mind that it’s difficult with both of them smiling into it. She’s perfect, and the world’s theirs for the taking – there’s nothing more that he could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave a kudos or a comment below, let me know what you think. Or you can caps lock yell at me on [tumblr](http://hooksandheroics.tumblr.com). :)


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